Chronicles of Blood
by jamesbond541
Summary: Thank you very much for taking the time to read this story. This is the first piece of writing I've ever had the courage to publish so I hope you enjoy it. Although I have checked the text thoroughly please forgive any grammatical errors as they are a weakness of mine. Any feedback is incredibly welcome.


Chapter 1 - Gateway to darkness

To be fearful of the unknown is as curious as it is obvious, don't you think? As I stand here before the towering visage of spires, stone and chains that make up the Demon's castle I know that despite having never ventured inside that I should be truly and utterly afraid. Castle Dracula is a testament to evil's triumph over good and yet here I stand stained with snow and dirt, flesh pink with the onslaught of the never-ending blizzard that had dogged me every step of my journey, impatiently waiting for the sun to dip beneath the horizon so I may finally be permitted entry inside. Why had I come to a place so far removed from the light of God? Well that's a question I had been asking myself endlessly in the weeks it had taken to trek through the frigid wastes of Wallachia to get here. The answer was simply that like any fool I was chasing a dream. Not a dream of riches, fame or heroism but a dream of redemption and reunion.

It was with this thought that the last slivers of sunlight finally began to retreat behind the mountain side, fleeing the encroaching darkness that now seemed to envelop the snow laden cliffside I had been waiting upon. Far below me dark waters churned as the ocean continued its never-ending quest to drag the land down to its hungering depths. Dracula's castle had resided in Wallachia for over two hundred years and its presence had brought with it a ceaseless winter that killed the once fertile lands and removed any hope that natural life would thrive here again. This pleased the Prince of Darkness greatly for long had he lost his love for the natural world and instead now surrounded himself with the grotesque and the undead. Staring at the intimidating structure before me I let my fear give way to arrogance as I stretched out my arms and yelled with all my might.

"Open for me castle! For I, Grayson Locke, shall be your conqueror and your destroyer this night!"

A sudden crack of lighting threatened to tear the sky in half as the ground beneath me immediately began to shake and the sound of the lowering drawbridge filled the air with a sense of dread that was almost palpable. Despite the fear clinging to me like an unpleasant stench I felt a smile creep over my lips as the bridge slammed neatly into a deliberate groove that had been carved into the cliffside. The air in my lungs was ice cold as I made my way across the precarious drawbridge; with every breath I took rolling over my cracked lips before disappearing into a cloud of fog before my eyes. Clutching closed my coat I battled on toward the courtyard that awaited me beyond the bridge; the fierce weather and ceaseless creaking a constant reminder that I was held aloft by little more than old wooden slats and dog-eared ropes. The wind howled like the souls of the dead themselves were warning me to turn back but with every step I took my resolve only strengthened to see this through to its end. The moment my foot touched the solid stone of the castle's small courtyard I felt awash with relief as suddenly the bridge behind me fell to the blizzard's unrelenting fury disappearing into the ravenous depths below.

Collecting myself I looked up at the grand staircase before me which led to a pair of intimidating black doors adorned with golden carvings of two vampires squeezing the blood of a heart into their open mouths. The small courtyard was bland in comparison with little of note except for a small glinting object that was tucked away under one of the dead bushes that lined the base of the castle wall. Reaching my arm into the labyrinth of sharp twigs and vicious thorns I grabbed the object and yanked it roughly from its prison. It took only a moment to realise I wasn't the first owner of the glimmering golden compass I now had sitting in my palm for along with it I had pulled a mangled hand which now sat lifelessly on the cold stone floor before me. The hand appeared to have been chewed from the bone and it seemed frighteningly likely that the victim was alive when it happened. I felt the panic bubbling within me like a hand poised around my neck wanting desperately to choke the last vestiges of resolve out of me. Sliding the compass into my pocket I ascended the steep staircase to the pair of foreboding doors that marked my entryway into the Prince's domain.

The doors wailed in protest as they were slowly pushed apart to reveal a dimly lit hallway with flickering torches mounted on the walls and stone columns that rose from the ground to the ceiling above. Hesitantly I stepped forward onto the white marble floor of the newly revealed hallway and reached up to dislodge one of the torches from the wall. With a source of light at my side I felt a swell of confidence within me as I began to move deeper into the deserted hallway. Behind me I could hear the screech of the doors gleefully returning to their closed state, a painful reminder that there was no turning back now. The corridor was seemingly identical throughout and it wasn't long before it began to feel as if I were traversing in circles destined to be trapped in this madhouse as penance for my arrogance. Yet as this thought entered my mind I was struck by a sudden end to my wandering. Standing before me was a mirror as tall as the ceiling and as wide as the wall to which it was fixed. The edging of the mirror was lined with the body of a giant golden serpent whose head rested at the very top; undoubtedly so that its murderous red eyes could fix their gaze upon any would be trespasser.

Curiously I found myself not drawn to the looming serpent above me but to the mirror itself which, as the name would imply, currently displayed my reflection. At 6 ft 4 I would normally be the one used to intimidating others but in this bastion of darkness I was truly little more than an insect scurrying about its halls. My attire retained little of the colour it had once held; where there was once a blackened waistcoat, trousers, shoes and white shirt beneath a dusty brown trench coat there was now largely a palette of only muddy blacks and patches of damp for the eye to behold. In fact the only part of me that seemed to have survived the journey intact was my hair, a slicked back slab of brown sable, which scarcely had a wisp out of place.

I scratched at the frustrating five o'clock shadow I had foolishly allowed to take residence upon my face as I continued to stare blankly at my own reflection, almost expecting it to move before I did. It was in this moment that I realised for the first time that this castle was no house of parlor tricks intended to frighten away children and the superstitious but instead a gateway to a reality so far removed from our own that you could barely believe they resided in the same plane of existence. Why had I realised this? Because before me my reflection had pressed his hand to the surface of the glass and was beckoning me to do the same. My blood ran cold as I stared into the eyes of my twisted doppelganger whose sinister grin made my stomach lurch with terror. With great hesitation my arm began to rise from my side to match his; our palms soon pressed firmly against one another as I relinquished any final hope that I could abandon this foolhardy quest and instead allowed myself to be pulled into his realm through the glass that now twisted and moved like the ravenous waves outside.

I awoke to the feeling of cool marble against my cheek as I struggled to comprehend the blurry shapes of the room in which I had been deposited. With tremendous effort I rose to my feet rubbing my eyes frantically as the world around me slowly began to take form. Before me lay a tremendous throne of twisted black metal and blood which rose at the back at least 9 feet into the air. Yet this was not high enough to obscure the moonlight which seeped into the room through the towering stained glass windows that filled the entire wall behind the throne. The stairway leading to the grandiose throne was adorned with a red carpet which led all the way to the entrance of the room where a pair of colossal doors watched silently over all. However nothing was truly as unsettling as the large beast like statues that sat either side of the staircase to the throne. With the head of a snake, torso of a lion and legs of a dragon the pieces of depraved art cast twisted shadows across the gleaming floor which seemed to flicker and move in the corner of my eyes.

What truly turned these macabre decorations into depictions of horror however was that each statue had its arms out stretched above its head with claws so sharp that they could have easily sliced through flesh like butter. These claws had been stained a sickening shade of rouge and it soon became clear that Dracula used these atrocities to bleed his victims slowly as if they were little more than a twisted version of a water fountain made exclusively to sate the unending thirst of vampire kind. It was clear now that in a fit of twisted humour this castle with rooms unending had brought me to the lair of the beast himself. My despair could not be entertained for long however as I heard the screech of the doors being opened behind me. Trembling with terror I immediately hid behind one of the satanic statues that filled me with such disgust. A silence followed that made the beating of my heart sound as loud as the clapping of thunder and yet I wanted nothing more than to remain within its protection for as long as possible.

"Did you truly think you could hide from me, boy?"

Those words reverberated throughout the throne room and pierced my heart like a bullet as I clutched at my body expecting the end to come at any moment.


End file.
